


Have You Ever Kissed Anyone?

by nothingisreal



Series: Have You Ever...? [2]
Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 16:12:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11338881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingisreal/pseuds/nothingisreal
Summary: “We kissed once. He was drunk out of his mind,” Charlie chuckled, a fond smile on his face.The story of what happened that night. Aka "Charlie Dalton Has Some Alcohol and a Bad Idea".





	Have You Ever Kissed Anyone?

**Author's Note:**

> The usual: no beta and English still isn't my first language.  
> I finally have some (i.e. lots of) free time, so I decided to finish (or, in some cases, start) everything I've promised. This was at the top of my list.

Charlie knew he would be friends with Neil the first time he saw him. Not because of fate or anything stupid like that. Because he’d make damn sure they would be. He always got what he wanted, again, because he took care of that himself instead of sitting around and waiting for some invisible force to do things for him. 

That was at the beginning of Latin, before he even knew Neil’s name, and by the time the bell rang, he had something resembling a plan. He knew he’d end up throwing it out of the window and just making it up as he went along, he was so much better at thinking on his feet, after all if you didn’t have a plan, it couldn’t go wrong, but at the very least it gave him something to do during the lesson.

By the end of the break he had Neil cornered (he looked so startled and shy, it did funny things to Charlie’s insides). By the end of lunch, less than three hours later, Neil was talking with him easily, already comfortable. By the time he closed his eyes that night he knew Neil’s life story and was well on the way to becoming his closest (and first) friend. 

So yeah, Charlie knew exactly what he wanted from Neil from the very first day. But he was so absorbed in becoming Neil’s best friend (exactly 43 days and eight hours until Neil himself called him that, Charlie counted), he failed to notice the impending disaster which was speeding towards him like a freight train, whistle blowing and lights flashing for pretty much everyone around to notice. Except for Charlie, that is. And Neil but he lived in his own world, never reflecting on the reality more than was strictly necessary. It was Charlie’s job to bring him back to the ground when he ventured too far up the clouds. Anyway, when Charlie finally did realize his oversight, it was way too late.

It was when they came back from summer break, two years after they met. Neil had grown over the summer, his voice deeper and his shoulder broader than Charlie remembered them. And then Neil spotted him from across the room and the bored expression he wore changed to a brilliant smile that Charlie liked to think was reserved only for him. It lasted less than five seconds before Neil’s father commanded his attention again, but it was enough. Charlie realized he was  _ gone _ . He cursed himself for being such an idiot he’d failed to see it coming. But now that he knew, he saw that it had been there for a long time. Maybe since the very beginning.

He thought about avoiding Neil. He tried to, even. It lasted for the whole ceremony but as soon as he was in his room he realized he wasn’t kidding anyone. It wasn’t the way Charlie Dalton dealt with things. He didn’t run. He didn’t shy away from facing his problems head on. If anything he became even bolder, which sometimes didn’t end well. But it was okay. Charlie was fine with putting his foot in his mouth or taking something a step too far from time to time. He thought it was better than spending his whole life being afraid of his own shadow.

“Study group?” Neil grinned at him from the doorway.

Charlie regarded him carefully, an idea forming in his head. He smirked which made Neil tilt his head and narrow his eyes at him. “Charlie, whatever you’re-” He started.

“I’ve a better idea.”

And that’s how they ended up in the attic. They were safe there, so long as they kept the noise down. It was a room where various useless objects were stored and it had been locked ages ago. What the teachers didn’t realize was that over time the lock had rotten to the point where you could open it using a teaspoon. Or a pen, as Charlie prefered.

He brought some whiskey which he had stolen from his house (they wouldn’t notice - they never did). Neil had been apprehensive at first, but Charlie managed to convince him rather quickly - he could convince him to do anything if he put his mind to it. They were drinking it straight from the bottle. Or maybe rather, Neil was. Charlie took three sips to start them off, two hours ago, and since then Neil had the bottle and was drinking from it steadily. Charlie watched him as he went from glancing at the door nervously every five seconds, his muscles stiff with tension, to leaning against the wall casually and grinning at nothing in particular. He was talking about something, Charlie wasn’t really listening, only catching every other word, trying to come up with a way to… to do  _ something _ , he wasn’t sure what exactly, before the whole thing could drive him mad. But Neil didn’t seem to care whether he had an audience. He was perfectly happy to talk for the sake of talking.

“Hey, Neil?” Charlie whispered urgently, interrupting him halfway through a sentence.

Neil looked at him, his eyes big and bright, and smiled widely.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” 

Neil tilted his head in a gesture that Charlie knew meant he was trying to figure out what he was thinking. But the alcohol in his blood made him slow and he just shrugged after a couple of seconds. 

“Not really.” He admitted.

Charlie nodded. “Neither have I.” He crossed his fingers behind his back and hoped to God Neil was drunk enough not to see the blatant lie. “So I was thinking, maybe we should help each other out?” 

Neil furrowed his brows and downed the rest of the whiskey, then placed the bottle next to him on the floor. “How?” He asked, pushing himself up, so that his whole back and not only his head was propped against the wall.

Charlie squashed whatever guilt he was feeling, convinced himself he wasn’t doing anything unforgivable. He was beginning to have second thoughts which was the best sign that he had to stop  _ thinking  _ in favour of just _ acting _ and then worry about the consequences later. “We could kiss?”

Neil looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Whom?”

Charlie had to chuckle at that. He made a mental note to bring Neil some painkillers the following morning. “Each other.”

Neil nodded slowly, his brain struggling to process the information. “Okay?”

Charlie didn’t fish for more of a consent or enthusiasm. He just leant forward and pressed their lips together. He felt Neil go completely still where he had his hand on his shoulder. Then he seemed to just melt back against the wall, his arm coming up around Charlie’s waist. Charlie was vaguely aware of how awkward it all was, the angle, the place, Neil being drunk out of his mind and barely aware of what was happening. But nonetheless it felt nice. So he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind to deal with later, if at all, and just let himself get lost in it.

He didn’t know how long they spent in that position. All he knew was that, when they broke apart, his back was beginning to protest but his lips tingled pleasantly and his pants felt a bit tighter. They had gone from closed-lip pecks to practically fucking each other’s mouths.

“That was nice.” Said Neil. His lips were red as were his cheeks and he was breathing heavily. “But really weird.”

Charlie nodded. “I know.” He looked at Neil closely and sighed deeply. “I’m not in love with you.” He said, safe in the knowledge that Neil was too drunk to remember it or even understand what he meant.

Neil nodded. “I’m not in love with you too. Either.” He wrinkled his nose. “Neither?”

Charlie muffled his laughter against Neil’s shoulder. “Come on.” He said, pulling himself to his feet. He hooked his arms under Neil’s armpits and helped him up. 

“The room’s spinning.”

“Is it?” Charlie smiled. “Let’s get you to bed. To sleep.” He added with a laugh, although Neil failed to notice the implication. 

“Mhm… sleep sounds nice.”

“I thought it might.” Charlie smiled at him fondly.

If anything came of that night, it was a splitting headache for Neil (“Never again. And don’t laugh so loud!”) and relief for Charlie that he wasn’t in love with his best friend after all. And that said best friend had only vague recollections of what had happened (“Charlie, did we kiss?” “You must’ve dreamt it.”).


End file.
